


Beautiful, Fragile Things

by Curlsandcollege



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hilda being a good friend, Minor Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Minor Mercedes von Martritz/Dedue Molinaro, Reflection, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 05:40:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26468089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curlsandcollege/pseuds/Curlsandcollege
Summary: Marianne reflects on her friends' marriages, her impending matrimony to Dimitri, and her own complex and ever changing relationship with desire.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Marianne von Edmund, Marianne von Edmund & Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 4
Kudos: 80
Collections: That Old Faerghus Repression





	Beautiful, Fragile Things

**Author's Note:**

> This began as a quest to have there be more DimaMari smut but to get there I needed some sweet sweet contemplation and reflection. So now you get both! Enjoy!

Marianne had never spent much time thinking about sex.  
  
It wasn’t that she wasn’t aware of the topic, she assisted with foaling each spring in Edmund. She knew very well how babies were made, and she was smart enough to read between the lines of the goddess granting parents the gift of a child.  
  
Children didn’t just appear, they had to be created.  
  
She simply did not connect the factual existence of sex with herself. In fact, sex was very near the bottom of the infinite list of topics Marianne von Edmund might consider on any given day.  
  


Her adoptive father brought up the topic exactly once in her life. He’d stood red faced and demanded her attention before she left home for the first time, reminding her that while there might be many eligible young men at Garreg Mach she was to remain as pure as the goddess demanded of unmarried women. His skill as an orator let him deliver the message in a calm and sturdy manner, but they were both noticeably desperate to end the conversation quickly.  
  
His reminder didn’t seem difficult to her younger self. She couldn’t imagine having a friend other than Dorte- people avoided her, and she avoided them. Even the monastery’s biggest flirts took more to coaching her how to look and act like a human rather than anything lewd.  
  
In the years following the war her friends ( _friends, oh what a thought)_ married at various speeds. Annette and Felix almost immediately, spurring others into references to their _eagerness_ for what came after they were wed. Marianne paid no mind, their natures always overwhelmed her far too much for her to get to know them well, but they were in love and it was sweet to see them so content.   
  
On the eve of their wedding she’d snuck in a few dances with Dimitri, enjoying the feeling of being wrapped in his arms, looking up into his face. She politely demurred after two songs, each of them switching to other partners. They were subtle about their courtship, intentions spoken and clear but hidden from the people. Dancing gave them an excuse for the public closeness they craved if just for the space of a few songs.  
  
Around her everyone made offhand jokes about the happy couple’s _activities_ . Friends asked pointed questions about when Marianne and Dimitri would be rushing down the aisle themselves.  
  
She intellectually knew they were joking about sex, as if that were the only reason to get married, but Marianne never dwelled on it. Her heart fluttered when Dimitri held her or sat close. She flushed and felt immense satisfaction on the rare occasions they kissed.  
  
She never yearned for more. Marianne simply did not feel whatever pull everyone else seemed to be ruled by. It didn’t trouble her very often, though her thoughts were forever prone to circling and spiraling and finding ways to call her broken, confirming what she already knew about herself. She was unworthy. She was not meant for other people.  
  
Yet when Dimitri cradled her face in his hands and smiled at her warmly and called her his beloved, she could almost believe they were matched souls, gifts to each other from the goddess.  
  


Dedue and Mercedes married quietly six months after Annette and Felix. A small private affair that Marianne attended more out of benefit for Dimitri than her own closeness to the bride or groom. Mercedes, crowned in flowers, beamed at her and thanked her profusely for attending regardless, not one bit a blushing bride but a confident and assured one. 

Unlike other weddings she attended, this one was not a ball so much as a private feast. Good food shared amongst their closest companions in a cozy room in the palace.   
  
A small private part of her felt guilty. She was in no true rush to marry, though her adoptive father grew increasingly insistent there was no reason to delay. A wedding like that, a small gathering of close friends and loved ones… It was something she could never have.  
  
Dimitri could live with her curse, her crest, her self hatred. She could share in his as well.  
  
His burdens. His guilt. The expectation of a highly public life.  
  
There would be no lovely, cozy commoner wedding in her future. 

  
The evening wrapped up slowly with casual bids goodnight, individuals and couples begging off too tired to continue. Mercedes and Dedue the last to depart rather than the first, but in the lovely casualness of the evening it didn’t stick out. 

Neither of them were terribly tired and Dimitri offered to walk her back to her room with a detour through the palace gardens. It was warm, deep in the summer, and the flowers were thriving.  
  
“Did you have a nice time?” Dimitri asked, giving her a gentle squeeze on their linked arms.  
  
“Oh… yes. A very unusual wedding, but a lovely one.” Marianne answered truthfully, had she not seen the short ceremony she wouldn’t have known it was a wedding at all.  
  
“Well neither wished for much fuss, though they agonized over the food and flowers as if it were a life or death. From how everyone reacted I do not think the other guests would guess they believed they were making due.”  
  
“Making due?” Nothing looked like a compromise to her, though decor and cooking weren’t her strongest suits. Perhaps the season was off for their favorites?  
  


Dimitri looked over his shoulder and lowered his voice, leaning in closer to Marianne.  
  
“I won’t keep secrets from you but you must keep this in confidence. They married in haste.” 

“Haste? I’m afraid I don’t understand…” Married in haste was such a specific term for Dimitri to use, why would they be in such a rush... _oh_. “So Mercedes is…?” 

Dimitri nodded, “They are overjoyed, as am I. Dedue is like a brother to me and though he won’t admit it, he does miss his family. I am happy he will be able to start a new one.” 

The words landed strangely, a pang of darkness through his sentiments of happiness. She studied his face, trying to read him.

Marianne always wanted him to confide in her, but Dimitri was not always open to sharing his troubles, even with her, “I hope the goddess blesses them with a very happy family. But you sound as if the news is bittersweet? Surely you do not judge them for not waiting?”  
  
“No, it is not my place to judge anyone else for their actions. I suppose it is more that I miss my own family. Even now. I try not to dwell on the past, yet...”  
  
Marianne understood. She could scarcely remember her family, and she only had a few happy memories of that time regardless. Yet visiting Hilda and seeing the fondness and love her family carried always made her nostalgic for the childhood she never had.  
  
“I often hear happy news and feel sadness. You are not alone in that.”  
  
“I… You have always understood me so well. I treasure your reassurance. We will have our own family one day, there is no need to be jealous that others are getting there first. We have all lost much.” 

Marianne’s breath caught in her throat and she paused, trying to gain her breath. A family? Yes she supposed they would be obligated to have a family one day- Dimitri was king. They needed heirs. Meaning they would need to- Her face flushed and she coughed violently. 

  
“Oh. No. I apologize Marianne. What a foolish thing for me to say. I have clearly made you uncomfortable”  
  
“No, no. I just… I’ve never thought of us having a family before.”  
  
“If it causes you anxiety I will refrain from bringing it up again. We are not even formally betrothed, it is inappropriate for me to say such things to you.”  
  
Dimitri’s eye widened in concern, his jaw set in the tight way that she knew meant he was trying to keep himself from spiraling in guilt. Oh no, she was making him feel worse.  
  
“Dimitri do you think I’m odd for having never thought of this before?” Marianne asked, voicing her own anxiety. She spotted a nearby bench nestled in rose bushes and sat, pulling him down with her. Easier to see his face in the dark at this more even level.  
  
“Never! Any oddities you may carry I have always found endearing, but that in itself is not odd to me.” His face was so lovely in it’s sincerity. This is why she loved him, he didn’t deny her oddities or flaws. He lived with them.  
  
“But- Not even children. The other parts… I am not unfamiliar with the concept of… how children are created.” 

Dimitri flushed himself, diverting his gaze to the floor. Oh dear she made him uncomfortable with her suggestion. They never spoke of this, of private intimate acts a couple might share. They loved each other and had been clear in their intentions of marriage for a year. If so many of their friends simply could not wait one moment longer, why was it so easy for her?   
  
“Go on, ” Dimitri encouraged.  
  
“It’s simply… Our companions mention sex casually. As if the complexities and burdens of marriage are secondary to the privilege of intimacy. Others seem preoccupied with it and I am not. Is that odd?” 

Dimitri considered, “I am glad for your honesty. It is not that I have not thought of lovemaking and in my own admission I have, uh, I would look forward to sharing that with you. But our marriage would be far more complex, I would be asking you to take much on. I do not think it is strange that you would be far more focused on the burdens than the benefits.” 

Marianne flushed even deeper, _benefits_ .  
  
“I don’t think of the benefits at all” she blurted out, filling with embarrassed regret at her poorly chosen words.  
  
“W-what I mean,” Marianne stammered, “Is that I have trouble picturing. Um, no. That’s… I find our level of intimacy at the moment to be enough. Should I not yearn for more?”  
  
Dimitri shook his head, “You can yearn for as much or as little as you want, that will never change my opinion of you Marianne. I too enjoy our level of intimacy. I admire your ability to focus on the present. You know I am often far too wrapped up in the past or the future.” 

  
She laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and let him lean in to kiss her. Dimitri was always so gentle while they kissed, resting his hands chastely on her back or, more daringly, her hips. Feather light touches, always frightened to break her. The warmth and passion behind their movements- how could she ever desire anything more?  
  


* * *

“Oh man Marianne, he is _not_ going to know what hit him!” Hilda pulled away from where she was pinning, taking in her handiwork. 

Marianne kept her head stubbornly turned away from the mirror. She spent her life in practical undergarments, rarely even embroidering decorations to the hems. Hilda once swayed her into trying her hand at a few birds and it quickly devolved into such a tangled mess that she simply threw the chemise away.  
  
Hilda made several demands on the eve of Marianne’s official betrothal, but her simplest was _if you don’t let me make your wedding night outfit I will die._ Hilda was Marianne’s very best friend, how could she say no?  
  


However when Hilda presented her with a handful of sketches that night, she quickly realized Hilda didn’t mean wedding dress.  
  


Marianne tried not to dwell on the sketches she saw of herself in short, scandalous attire. Hilda would do what she thought was best, and Marianne would try not to ruin her efforts. She wouldn’t let herself believe that this was some divine punishment brought on through Hilda. 

Months passed, the promise unspoken, and Marianne practically forgot about the whole embarrassing exchange until Hilda showed up on her doorstep with a bag full of garments.  
  
“Marianne! Look at yourself, silly. I worked my fingers to the bone and you look amazing, you won’t even look at my hard work!” Hilda pouted prettily.  
  
The room was far too bright for this by Marianne’s estimation. Hilda could see every bit of her, and was pinning and pulling fabric to show even more. It was just… Too much.  
  
“I can’t” Marianne squeaked, covering her eyes from embarrassment.  
  
“You’ll need to. Come on! You’re getting married in a week, you need to be more comfortable with your own body if you want to pull this look off!” Hilda closed back in, prying Marianne’s hands away with a strength she’d deny she wielded.  
  
“Lookie lookie” Hilda teased as she forced Marianne to take herself in.  
  
The woman staring at her in the mirror was on display in a scandalously short and tight garment. It hardly counted as a chemise, dipping low over her breasts and ending mid thigh. The fabric was silky, embellished with lace on the finger thin straps and bodice. But she couldn’t appreciate the beauty because in the daylight of her bedroom the garment was completely transparent.  
  
Marianne gasped and crossed her arms over her chest, “You you you can see my…”  
  
“Nipples? I mean yeah. That’s the point.”  
  
“But I…”  
  
“Nobody’s going to see it but Dimitri and _he’s_ not going to complain. He’ll see more later” 

Marianne’s ears may have taken in those words but her mind only produced bird chirps. High pitched and frenetic. Her legs gave out, collapsing on the floor in front of her mirror. Marianne pulled herself into a tight ball willing herself away. Out of this moment. Out of her own body.  
  
Hilda sighed and knelt down to join her, wrapping an arm around her protectively.  
  
“Marianne you seem stressed” 

She forced herself to make a tiny noise in response. How could she not be stressed? She was wearing nothing at all and she was supposed to… 

“I know you’ve avoided all my other offers to talk about it, but you’ll feel better if you do” Hilda comforted, rubbing small circles on her back.  
  
Another small noise of despair.  
  
“Marianne do you not want to get married?” 

This threw her. Oh no, was that the impression she was giving off?  
  
“I do Hilda. Truly. I just… Um… This is a lot for me.” Marianne felt a dust ball of weight drift off of her chest. She was truly going to ruin this, just as she always did.  
  
“Being Queen? Because I get it, I wouldn’t want that much responsibility. But you’re so proper and you’ll have servants to cover up for how disorganized you are. You’ll be fine! And Dimitri loves you, and he’s been his kind gentle self for years at this point so I don’t think he’s going to backslide into being a monster, especially when you’re around.”  
  
“He’s not a monster!” Marianne protested sharply.  
  
“Oookay. I didn’t say so. I’m just saying, what are you scared of? I thought you two waited so long to get married because you wanted to wait until you were ready.”  
  
“I thought I was but I’m worried for… You know we haven’t…” Marianne was sure if she was wearing any clothing at all she would be sweating with how hot she was flushing. Perhaps that’s why Hilda insisted she wear practically nothing, for all the blushing.  
  
“Oooh. You mean your wedding night? Well fine, let’s talk about it! You’re both so proper and formal, I’m not surprised you waited. I don’t have that kind of restraint. I’d be ten seconds from ripping his clothes off if we weren’t having sex _three years_ in.”  
  
“But I’m not! That’s the problem,” Marianne admitted.  
  
“Like you know you don’t want to do it, or you don’t know how?” Hilda questioned, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.  
  
It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought about it occasionally. Half of the Faerghus royal engagement rituals involved prayers to the goddess for fertility. Marianne swapped in her own prayers for her children not to bear the burden of her crest. Still prayers for children, but perhaps the goddess would take pity on her and give her happy ones.  
  
Sylvain made a joke at their last formal event that he, “Relished seeing the pious nobles of Faerghus praying desperately for a couple to screw.”  
  
Felix smacked him upside the head for the comment, and Dimitri reprimanded him for embarrassing Marianne. 

Dimitri later admitted to her privately that he looked forward to their wedding night as it crept ever closer. He kissed her passionately as they parted ways, grabbing her by the waist and holding her closely. She loved the feeling, she’d never tire of feeling loved by someone who truly understood her, but some tiny part in the pit of her stomach told her there was something more she was missing. That night, for the first time ever, Marianne tried picturing it.  
  
And realized she couldn’t.  
  
“Hilda I don’t know what to do. I’m too embarrassed to even… I don’t know anything.”  
  
Hilda’s eyes bulged in her head with surprise quickly fading into peels of laughter.  
  
“Really? Okay let’s start at the basics. So men have-”  
  
Marianne frowned “I know that much. I know the… mechanics. I think. I just, I know there’s more than, oh I can’t even say it.”  
  
Hilda made a lewd gesture, pistoning her pointer finger into a circle of her left hand “You mean you know this part?”  
  
Her face found its way back into her hands, but Marianne mustered up the nerve to nod.  
  
“Good. Well that’s the important bit. I mean, it’s not but that’s the barest element. But, hey, you touch yourself sometimes right?”  
  
Marianne shook her head, “N-no.”  
  
Hilda gasped, “Never? Like you’ve never felt like you just need to be touched and that any feeling would be better than the best healing magic? The tension?” 

Had she? Marianne racked her brain. She always assumed that the desire for sex should come from being with the person.  
  
“I… maybe? Sometimes? I don’t do anything about it and it fades eventually. I just thought that I should feel that way when I see Dimitri and I don’t?” Marianne admitted miserably.  
  
“You’ve kissed right?”  
  
Marianne nodded. What a silly thought, Hilda had seen them kiss before! She’d teased Marianne about it mercilessly after Lorenz’s wedding.  
  
“But never anything more than that?”  
  
“I don’t even know what more means!”  
  
Hilda cocked her head thoughtfully, “Well that’s something. You ever stop kissing and feel like you’re pulled to him, like you don’t want what you’re doing to end but you’re not sure what’s next?”  
  
“But that’s not the same as wanting to have sex Hilda!” Marianne felt tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Frustration? Embarrassment? Her mind was too addled to even tell her what negativity it was experiencing.  
  
“It kind of is. You don’t even know what you’re supposed to feel like because you’ve never tried anything! You’re trying to cast a spell without reading the sigil first! Even I know that’s a recipe for disaster”  
  
Marianne felt like the world’s biggest failure. She’d been chaste, as was the expectation her whole life. Now suddenly she was expected to know exactly what to do? Dimitri was excited and she was going to disappoint him. 

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel. How am I supposed to change that? Oh no, I’ve messed this whole thing up.” 

Hilda pulled her into another hug, letting Marianne calm herself. Hilda was a difficult person to be friends with at times, but her particular personality came with its own benefits. She knew how to read someone as closed off as Marianne and wait until she was able to function again before saying, 

“Okay. So tonight. Have a glass of wine after dinner and a nice bath and then put on your dress and _look at yourself_ and try to imagine what the man who loves you will see. Close one eye if you need the full effect”  
  
“Not funny Hilda” 

“Okay but I’m saying, you have to let yourself get in the mood. I get it, you’re too embarrassed to look in the mirror because I’m here, but if I leave will you be brave and look at yourself? You’ll manage fine either way. All of Dimitri’s inner circle are married with kids so I can’t imagine they haven’t forced him into talks about what to do. Well probably not Felix, but I trust Sylvain to have done it even just to take a piss out of the king. If you want it to be _good_ the first time and not merely _tolerable_ you’re going to have to figure out what you like.”  
  
Marianne steeled herself, “I guess I can try.”  
  
“That’s the spirit!” 

That night she followed Hilda’s directions. She undressed after dinner, pouring herself a glass of wine to take with her into her bath. It felt almost luxurious, the water warming her skin and the wine heating her up from the inside. Marianne rarely drank, preferring sweet libations that were derided as low quality. Drunkenness made her sad, but a single glass made her relaxed and maybe a little brave. Stepping out of the bath she wrapped a towel around herself tightly, shaking her hair out.  
  
Her eyes fell onto the slip. Right. She dropped the towel onto her dressing screen and pulled the soft fabric back onto her body.  
  
It would be fine. It was dark. She was alone. She could do this. For him.  
  
She crept up to the mirror pinching her eyes tight. She was alone. This was just for her. She could look at herself. It was dark. She’d barely be able to see herself.  
  
Marianne counted to three and opened her eyes.  
  
The first thoughts of anxiety crept up, so much skin, so much of her, so indecent.  
  
“Think like Dimitri” she reminded herself, trying to loosen the knot in her chest.  
  
If she were her betrothed, where would she look?  
  
She started at her feet, trailing her eyes up her legs. She always favored longer skirts, especially in her adulthood. Her legs were pale, but muscular. Well defined from years of riding, with a few pinpricks of ugly scars crisscrossing.  
  
No. Not ugly. She’d healed Dimitri countless times during the war and his body was far more marked than her own. She never thought any of the silver scars were ugly on him.  
  
She thought back to the last time she saw his bare skin. She was healing him right after Enbarr, the knife wound in his shoulder from Edelgard. Deep but not fatal. He had been eating well for months at that point, well filled out rather than the skeletal shell he was nine months earlier. He looked healthy outside of his wound.  
  
She could still picture it, broad with well muscled shoulders and defined biceps and hair creeping nicely down his chest all the way down to his...  
  
Her imagination sent an excited shiver through her body. Maybe she could do this. She trailed her eyes up a little further. 

In the cover of night the dress was far less transparent. The outlines of her hips softly suggested, but the patch of hair at her core less obvious through the fabric.  
  
The sillouette nipped into her waist. Dimitri liked resting his hands there, his fingers nearly spanning the width. Marianne placed her hands like his, enjoying the softness of the fabric. Feeling her ribcage move with each of her nervous breaths.  
  
She took one deep breath and let her eyes raise further. The lace on the bodice was still thin enough that her nipples peaked through. _That’s the point_ she reminded herself.  
  
Would he like that? Would he like to look at her breasts? They weren’t anything special, not to her anyway. But she supposed men were intended to be enchanted by such things.  
  
The shoulder straps were just a hair too long, an argument Marianne lost to Hilda- with her friend explaining that they should be just seconds from falling off. The lace slipped down her shoulder, and Marianne for just a moment realized that it looked almost enticing. Like it was meant to come off.  
  
What would it be like if, no, when Dimitri slipped it off? His warm hands on her bare skin, seeking more?  
  
A heat was building through her self examination. Marianne’s heart began to beat wildly in her chest.  
  
She… She wanted to find out. To feel his hands on her.  
  


She felt a small tension in her core and she clenched, seeking relief but not sure what she needed.  
  
_Have you ever touched yourself?_  
  
Touched…  
  
Marianne watched herself slide a hand under her slip, brushing gently against her center right where she felt the need most.  
  
_Oh_. 

* * *

Faerghus marriages allowed the bride and groom to honor their best friends with awkward responsibilities.   
  
The groom designated a first man who would verify the marriage was consummated. Marianne just about fainted when Dimitri brought up his selection, forgetting about that particular awkwardness, but thankfully he explained that Dedue would sit outside and the walls to his bedchamber were _incredibly_ thick. 

Less officially, but generally considered just as big of an honor was the Bride’s Lady- whose job was more or less helping the bride undress after the reception.  
  
Allegedly, this tradition was started because Queens’ wedding gowns were meant to be preserved for posterity and Blaiddyds’ had a terrible habit of ripping them beyond repair.

So Marianne stood at the end of the longest day of her life with Hilda unbuttoning the back of her dress. 

  
“Ugh yes they’re pretty but did there need to be so _many_ ? I would have just let you pick Leonie or Lysithea if I knew this would be _work_.” Hilda whined 

Marianne laughed softly, “You would have been hurt if I picked someone else”  
  
“True. Are you okay? You seem less scared out of your mind than last time we were doing this.” 

“I… I’m nervous. But I think I’m ready.”  
  
“Well look at you! I’m proud. Just remember to relax, if it’s not going in just stop and touch each other some more and try again! It’ll be fun!” 

“Not going in?” Marianne squeaked. Was that a possibility? 

Hilda smiled playfully, “I mean I know you don’t know but everyone kind of assumes Dimitri is like, crazy big so…. You’ll need to stretch… You know what? Don’t worry about it. Babies come out of there, you’ll be fine. Maybe get on top though, give yourself a little more control. Yeah definitely do that. Also, you know, let me know how big it is in the morning. I’m dying to know.” 

“Hilda!”  
  
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Here, step out I think you’re free.”  
  
And she was.  
  
Marianne bid Hilda goodnight, asked the goddess to please grant her the courage to follow through, and stepped through the adjoining door between the King’s and Queen’s rooms.  
  
Dimitri stood with his back to her, facing the fireplace that bathed the room in a soft glow. He discarded his wedding attire as well, dressed instead in soft trousers and a loose tunic. Eyepatch discarded for the night, his hair held away from his face in a simple tie.  
  
“My love” Marianne stuttered softly, trying to get his attention. No fear. This was an occasion. She could have a good thing if Dimitri was there.  
  
Dimitri turned slowly, their eyes meeting and his face curling into a small smile.  
  
“Oh. Marianne you look radiant”  
  
Marianne blushed, feeling her desire to cross her arms over herself fade into something else entirely.   
  
She wanted him to see her.  
  
“I… I’m excited to share this with you. You told me once that I must be lucky, and I have always believed that to be false.” She reached for his hand, running her finger over the golden ring that marked him as hers.  
  
“I am the lucky one Marianne. You are a blessing from the goddess, and while I will never understand why she allows one such as me to have you-”  
  
“Don’t say that! We… Tonight may we just enjoy being married at last?”  
  
Dimitri chuckled, “We’re both far too serious. You are correct, let’s enjoy how lucky we are to have found each other. How lucky I am that you are my wife,”  
  
Marianne smiled, “And you’re my husband” 

“Yes. Officially. Once we…”  
  
They broke into nervous laughter. Marianne observed her new husband. Smiling, eager for her. Who saw her nearly undressed and called her _radiant_ .  
  
How had she not desired him before? 

Marianne wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Chastely at first, a light peck on the lips followed by more passionate exchanges. The room was pleasantly warm but Dimitri radiated heat, wrapping his hands around her waist and lifting her up to meet him.  
  
“I apologize, I’ve tired of bending. I wish to elevate you to my level,” Dimitri smiled, placing a kiss on her cheek.  
  
“You won’t tire of lifting?” She joked.  
  
“We will find a solution when that comes to pass.” 

He kissed her again, trailing a few down her neck. New space, new skin. The sensations warming her throughout.  
  
She needed more. More everywhere.  
  
Excited at the realization Marianne found a solution, wrapping her legs around his waist. Feeling his hips and thighs and a protrusion that was entirely unfamiliar that caused her to gasp.  
  
He was hard. She could feel him. He wanted her. Goddess.  
  
Encouraged, he continued his exploration of her neck, leaving wet kisses down her throat and onto her shoulder. All so gentle she could cry. His lips chased the strap down and he lifted his head “I’ve never seen your shoulders before” he said earnestly.  
  
“You haven’t seen most of me before,” Marianne teased. Who _was_ she? 

He kissed her lips again, “I would wish to see more, if you’d allow me.”  
  


Marianne blushed, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. See her, all of her. Oh. But her skin was on fire and there were already bits of pleasure coiling in her center. Just from kissing. Just from the anticipation of what was to come. He hadn’t touched her below her shoulder yet.  
  
How much better would his hands and mouth feel where she was sensitive? 

“Only if… um… You’ll join me?” Marianne asked shyly.  
  
Dimitri was red faced and ecstatic the whole evening, but her request made him pause before stammering, “O-of course” 

He placed her down, “Maybe… if it’s not terribly forward, we should move to the bed?”  
  
She nodded, forward. They’d move forward together, bit by bit.  
  
This was _fun_ . How had she not realized that mixed through the anxiety and the newness that seeing him so happy and pleased would light her within?  
  
Dimitri sat on the edge of the bed, feet firmly on the floor while Marianne knelt besides him on the mattress.  
  
This was fine, sitting made kissing easier for them. He was nearly a foot taller than her, this put them on level ground.  
  
Dimitri’s hand gripped Marianne’s shoulder lightly, “I should confess, I have some trepidation about harming you. I have always been clumsy with small precious things, and you, beloved, are the most precious.”  
  
Marianne’s heart clenched in her chest, “You have done nothing of the sort. I trust you, my clumsy husband.”  
  


She leaned in and kissed him again, and he slid both straps down her arms. The bodice, freed from it’s support, slid slowly down her breasts under his ministrations until she was exposed to him. His eye widened, staring openly at her chest with a delightful mix of excitement and awe.  
  
Embarrassed, excited, unable to speak Marianne reached for the hem of Dimitri’s tunic, pulling it up. 

She’d seen his chest before, but not like this. Always to heal, clean, maintain. Not to cherish, savor, appreciate. And there was so much of him to appreciate. 

His hands went to her breasts, cupping tentatively. “You’re exquisite” he sighed, kissing her again.  
  
His thumb brushed over a nipple and Marianne moaned softly at the feelings it elicited. Her breasts could do that? Send signals right to her center, make her want even more?  
  
Encouraged by her reaction he did it again on the other side, eliciting the same response. The tips now peaked and sensitive. Marianne fluctuated between wanting to lean back and let him continue his ministrations and wanting to touch him in the same way. Could she make him make that kind of noise? 

Marianne ran her hands down his chest, exploring the textures of his skin and the coarseness of the hair that trailed all the way down to where she could see he was already straining against his pants. Her hand brushed down the trail of hair on his lower stomach and Dimitri bucked his hips up involuntarily.  
  
Marianne let out a gasp. Hilda’s comment echoed in her ears, dreadfully embarrassing not an hour ago but now it left her curious. What did the rest of him look like? 

  
“I’m afraid I’m a bit overexcited” Dimitri apologized, pulling his hands back to himself as if he was unable to gauge his own restraint. Unable to see just how wonderful he was making her feel.  
  
She felt the loss of his touch acutely.  
  
“I think you’re appropriately excited” Marianne commented, leaning in to kiss him once again. Repeating his motion with wet kisses along his neck, feeling a sense of satisfaction as he twisted and took sharp intakes of breath. She felt powerful. Her mouth found the muscle connecting his shoulder and neck and in a fit of inspiration she sucked.  
  
The noise Dimitri made was hardly human, a guttural whine, his whole body tensing.  
  
She did it again. He reached for her, hands lacing into her hair, roaming over her bare back. His fingers tracing down her spine making her want more more more. She assaulted his chest with kisses, briefly disappointed his nipples didn’t elicit much of a response but moving on bravely. Realizing she enjoyed this, enjoyed him, making him happy.  
  
She pressed her thighs together, trying to relieve any of the tension that was quickly becoming overwhelming. Dimitri gently pulled her back up as she pressed a kiss right under his belly button, unable to hide the twisting of his hips.  
  
“M-Marianne you are,” he kissed her tenderly, “you are incredible.”  
  
Their foreheads rested together, arms wrapped loosely around each other, feeling the newness of skin on skin, her breasts appreciating the texture of his chest against her.  
  
What would the rest feel like? 

She scooted back to the center of the bed, beckoning him to follow. She shyly climbed into his lap, closer than they were before when she wrapped her legs around him. Feeling him through his pants pressing against her. Oh, oh no, she was wet and suddenly she found herself blushing, going up to her knees so he couldn’t feel her- oh how embarrassing.  
  
Dimitri’s hands found her waist again, a gentle pressure where the garment pooled around her hips “Did I… are you okay?”  
  
“No, no, it’s me. I’m…” She made a small noise, too embarrassed to admit her predicament.  
  
His eye widened, his gaze dropping down to his lap where she had, oh goddess she had left a spot on him. 

“You’re…” Dimitri flushed with realization. “I’m told that is good?” He asked shyly.  
  
Marianne swallowed, too nervous to find the proper words. “I suppose. Well. Yes. I am embarrassed that I made a mess of your trousers.” She admitted, feeling shame curl with foolishness.  
  
Dimitri’s fingers tightened on her hips, pressing her down once again, feeling the joyous return of pressure on her center. “I do not mind, please don’t be embarrassed.”  
  
He kissed her passionately and she let herself relax, rocking her hips against him and enjoying the sensation. Wanting more.  
  
His fingers fisted the fabric and started lifting it up over her head, slowly to give her room to protest or stop. She’d be bare, completely bare but found that the idea didn’t bother her so much as it once did.  
  
She leaned back, letting him pull her chemise over her head and discard it to the side. His gaze traced over her body. Marianne spent much of her life hiding from the view of others, finding stares invasive and accusatory. Yet as the moment stretched, Dimitri’s reverent study made her believe what he said- to him she was holy.  
  
His hands roamed the newly exposed skin, making her squirm and lean over his tentative touch, moaning as his thumbs found her hip bones. “That, that’s so-” she tried to encourage, losing her breath as he repeated the action. She didn’t realize she could be sensitive there.  
  
His thumbs grazed lower, making her squeak in surprise as he explored her curls, “May I?” he asked tentatively. Marianne nodded eagerly, her blood on fire and the solution grazing over her mound.  
  
She reared up on her knees again under his ministrations, leaning her hips under his touch as he was so so close to where her tension would be relieved. Finally a finger dipped into her wetness, sliding up her folds until he touched where she needed him.  
  
“Again. Please. There” Marianne panted out. He followed the encouragement, brushing his finger over the bundle again, a bit less softly this time. Marianne keaned and he continued repeating the motions, rubbing at her with small circles. This was so much better than when she did this herself, his fingers so much rougher and wider, stronger and not stopping even as she twitched and lost control of her limbs. His other hand pressed gently on her hip keeping her in place. His head dipped down to kiss out her breast and she was building and building and felt something tightening deep inside herself.  
  
“More, please,” she gasped, not even sure what he was asking for but hoping he’d have a solution to this unending pressure. A finger gently pressed against her entrance and she spent every ounce of her remaining willpower to open her legs wide enough to let him press in. The stretch foreign but giving way easily. She whined and he began to move in time with his thumb.  
  
It had not been half so good under her own touch, never cresting this high. She’d been content to simply let herself feel good, but Dimitri kept rubbing and kissing and biting and every sensation felt stronger and better than the last. She briefly entertained how his mouth would feel against her and- oh goddess, thoughts for another time. Her legs began to shake and he pressed a second finger inside, stretching wider, scissoring and curling and briefly brushing against something that made her clench.  
  
She moaned loudly, feeling her tension finally reach the peak and bubble over into warm shivery pulses. She wrapped herself around him, silencing her noises with his lips. She shook in his lap, panting quietly, “Please, too much.”  
  
He grinned triumphantly, “Good?” he asked, letting her come back to herself while wrapping her protectively in the circle of his arms.  
  
She laughed, he was so cute like this, so pleased with himself. “Very good” she agreed lazily, head fuzzy with stimulation.  
  
As she came back to herself they were laying on their sides, and she nestled her face into his chest.  
  
“I suppose I got a bit carried away there,” she said absentmindedly.  
  
“No, never. I um… I was told it would help if you uh… It was satisfying in all honesty, to see you like that. I didn’t know if I’d be able to, but I’m glad” 

Marianne nodded, “I’m glad as well.”  
  
Their eyes met, grinning stupidly at one another.  
  
This was what she was apprehensive about? This softness and silliness?  
  
She assumed that there would be passion, and there was of course. But the intensity was belied by her dear husband being exactly who he was- so earnest, so desiring to be good and right and serve others and make her happy. 

  
She sighed contentedly, pressing their lips together and hooking her leg over his thigh, wanting to be closer. He was even harder than before, straining at the laces of his pants.  
  
“My love?” Marianne said, her voice barely a whisper.  
  
He hummed in response, hands lacing through her hair. Its braided style slipping every which way, seconds from ruination.  
  
Marianne felt the full depths of her inexperience, unsure how to move them to the next step. How to make him feel as loved and taken care of.  
  
“I believe you may be overdressed, my love” Marianne stated softly, trying to flirt.  
  
Dimitri’s brows furrowed, and then laughed in realization.  
  
“Not so, I can remedy that.” His hands eagerly reached for his laces, snapping them in his haste. Dimitri made a small noise in frustration, and Marianne laughed pleasantly.   
  
Not deterred by his clumsiness, Dimitri lifted his hips and shucked his pants down his legs, letting them crumple to the ground.  
  
His manhood bounced against his stomach, red at the tip and flushed throughout. Marianne tried to stifle her gasp. He was much wider than his fingers. That was supposed to go inside of her?  
  
She reached a tentative hand out over the tip of him, trying to face her fear head (or hand) on. 

Dimitri let out a shallow breath at the contact, eye closing tightly.  
  
She moved her hand again experimentally over him, enjoying that each motion of her hand made Dimitri tense or gasp. In the darkness of the room she couldn’t see his face clearly- she’d need to remedy that. She sat up, straddling his legs.  
  
His face was incredible, scrunched up but happy, biting at his hand with each movement she made. Thinking back to what she enjoyed, she moved her hand faster, and his eye shot open.  
  
“Marianne- can I, can we?” He babbled quickly, kingly decorum disintegrating under each pump of her hand.  
  
She wanted more, whatever he wanted, anything to make him come apart.  
  
He leaned up, kissing her hotly. “Please, I wish to make love to you.”  
  
Marianne’s heart thudded in her chest, but a heat coiled in her belly. She needed him closer.  
  
Dimitri’s hands pulled her forward until she was flush with his cock, the head weeping onto his stomach. She moved her hips experimentally, rubbing up against him, and Dimitri grunted at the feeling of his skin against her wetness.  
  


“Is this okay? Hilda said...” Marianne trailed off embarrassed, hoping he’d agree to let her set the pace. Not that she didn’t trust him, but her mind simply didn’t believe she’d be able to take him. She needed to relax, she needed to breathe.  
  
This was supposed to be fun. This was fun. She could do it- it was even seeming likely she’d enjoy it.  
  
Dimitri pressed his mouth against her breast, nodding, “However you’ll have me. This was suggested to me as well, because of my, erm,” they both looked down “size.”  
  
She smiled at him, “You’re sweet, my husband.”  
  
She reached down, grasping gently at his length and guiding it towards her core.  
  
Spreading her legs wide, she sank down on the first inch, gasping out at the sensation. Stretched so wide, burning.  
  
“So much” she swallowed, willing herself to continue.  
  
Dimitri met her eyes, chest heaving in exertion of control, “You feel indescribable my beloved. Please, take your time.” 

This was for him, she thought, lowering her hand down his length, taking him inch by inch. For him, for her too. The stretch stopped hurting and became almost satisfying, too wide, so impossibly big, but they were meant for each other and her body got the message, changing around him.  
  
Seated to the hilt she exhaled, he was so deep. She shifted experimentally, lifting her hips and lowering.  
  
Dimitri moaned loudly, rolling his head back towards the headboard. “I love you Marianne. I love you” he raised his hips to meet her, hands cupping her behind and helping her find a pace.  
  
They moved together, enjoying the sensations of being joined, of making love. The slide of warmth and fullness.  
  
Their pace quickened, Marianne running her hands over Dimitri’s chest and through his hair, as he peppered her face and neck and shoulders and breasts in warm wet kisses. Every sensation new forcing gasps and moans and soft laughs.  
  
Uncomfortable newness subsided into pleasure, a need for friction and touch everywhere. She held tight around him like a vice, needing relief so badly. She tried grinding against his stomach, only for Dimitri to reach a hand between them. His fingers slid through her wetness once again and stroking her rapidly until she reached her peak, shivering around him once again.  
  
He took a great shuddering breath, hips jerking wildly, and with a low groan Dimitri released, wrapping his arms around Marianne and pulling her down flush with his chest. Both of their hearts beating wildly as they struggled for long moments to catch their breath.  
  
Dimitri pressed a warm kiss to the top of her head, “I am so lucky to be married to you, my beloved.” His eye shone with intense emotion, overwhelmed at what they shared. 

  
Marianne struggled to find words to fit her feelings. She felt so very loved and the mix of emotions and exertion were exhausting and strange. “I love you so much Dimitri” she managed. Not enough, not the right words. Words to say how he made her feel holy instead of cursed, desirable rather than invisible. Worthy not worthless.  
  
He rolled them again, sliding out of her wetly, nestling up against her back, the whole of her encompassed by his frame. 

“I could not have imagined how wonderful this would feel” he said, lazilly stroking her side.  
  
“Nor I. I was scared.” Marianne admitted. How silly to be scared when it could feel so incredible. The fuss seemed entirely worth having, her younger self would be scandalized.  
  
He kissed her hair, “I was as well. I am glad we can share this intimacy. You have always been willing to share me with Faergus. This, this is yours alone.”  
  
This would be just for them, their private affection, hidden from the world.  
  
Marianne loved the sound of that.  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hilda is the friend all virgins need, you know?


End file.
